The Demon Who Dared
by Void Child
Summary: A little tale of a demon who dared to be...different.
1. Chapter 1

Why, hello there! Say, I wasn't expecting guests this evening...what's that, you say? You're some sort of incorporeal spirit that exists in another dimension, and thus have not the power to greet me back, much less have a chat over a cup of tea? Oh, never mind then.

Alright, then. You've convinced me. I have a lot of things on my mind right now, you see, and nobody down here in the Abyss seems eager to hear me out. As a matter of fact, whenever I try to have a heart-to-heart chat with any of the demons, they mostly just laugh and try to tear my eyes out. So, if you'd like to listen, I can tell you my story. Oh, and I promise not to speak as if I am addressing _you_ in particular, because that would be really annoying. And just because I'm Chaotic doesn't mean I don't keep my word.

Anyway, if you (Woops, sorry! I won't do it again.) haven't already guessed, or read the summary for that matter, I'm a demon. A babau demon, to be exact. If you don't know what that looks like, just try to imagine an almost skeletal humanoid figure with sharp fangs, big pointy ears, claws, red, torn skin, and a barbed tail. Did I forget the inky black eyes? Yeah, I have inky black eyes. And a spear that I named Sophie. My name, if you are wondering, is Khaa-Mal'Thaxmar-Quorixx'imesh. But you can call me, excuse me, I mean: my friends call me Khaa.

I live on the first of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss. I assume you would have first guessed that I would have said some random number, like 503, or 181, or 666. But nope, I live on the first layer, Pazunia. (Wait, am I forgetting something...?)

Well, Pazunia is a pretty nice place by demonic standards. You get a clear view of the blood-red sky and that giant meteor that's prophesized to destroy the multiverse one day. The vrocks can often be found playing their games of sky football, with the losers, of course, condemned to an eternal existence as nalfeshnee toilet paper. Sometimes I like to bathe in the River Styx. It really is interesting to scuba dive and go on a treasure hunt for the abandoned hopes and dreams of innocent mortals.

But all my bloody, needlessly violent life, I felt that something was...missing. Something that no quantity of bloodshed could quench, some desire that no amount of devoured babies could satisfy. It made me feel lonely, left out from all the other demons. As a matter of fact, they didn't let me play in any of their demon games, such as Pin the Spear on the Virgin, Wheel of Misfortune, and Hangman. This did give me plenty of time to try to discover myself, however. But whatever my big secret that my mind wasn't telling me was, the Abyss didn't have it.

But one day, (or night, you can't tell because the sky's always red) it all hit me. I was just sitting out on the front porch of my cave, sipping a cup of tea made from the juice of a squid's crushed eyeball, when I saw this stumbling, confused figure. As it got nearer, I realized that this figure was no demon, but a beautiful human woman. Oh, what am I saying! Those mortals are disgusting, not beautiful. Blegh.

Anyways, this human woman looked like a lost, confused puppy. She was crying for help, but her calls went unanswered, possibly attracting a few cannibalistic demons. This lady looked like a decent person, and I decided she must have ended up in the Abyss by mistake. You see, when mortals die, they are sent to an afterlife based on how good or evil they were in life. The Abyss is where those who revel in carnage, bloodlust, and destruction end up. But every so often, slip-ups will happen. Occasionally good, selfless folk will find themselves posthumously bathed in eternal flame, and it's not unheard of for serial killers to end up on a golden throne getting footrubs from angels.

But I digress. The woman stumbled closer and closer, and I stood up to get a better look. That's when she saw me. She stood petrified, examining my form up and down. I shifted my taloned feet awkwardly.

"Morg-otho sko'rex. Hizz'thai gurrim mal'gallis?" I asked her. She didn't respond. I guess she didn't speak Abyssal, then, considering I just said "Hello there. What's your name?" in my native tongue.

"Ek skaa'an tu'ahlak qu tho'gynn?" She began to run away. So, I guess she doesn't speak Draconic, either.

"Help!" she shouted, because it worked so well the other times. So I figured out that she spoke Common, and I was about to reassure her that I wasn't planning on tearing her limb from limb, a pack of quasits, with swirling claws, teeth, and wings, swarmed her and tore her limb from limb. They swarmed off, fighting over who got dibs on which vital organ.

A normal demon would have probably tackled this woman when he first sighted her, peeled off her skin, and used it as pancake batter. But I did not, and I was even feeling pretty sickened when she got mauled by those demons back there. And it was then that I realized something.

I realized that I wished that I would have helped that woman. I wished I would have fought off those quasits and helped her survive in this Chaotic equivalent of a Hellhole, maybe even try to get her to her rightful destination. It would feel good if I got a chance to help the innocent. Most demons, however, get pleasure from mindless destruction and perversion of all things beautiful. That is what was different about me.

I spent all night (or was it day...?) thinking about that. So I made up my mind the next day (night?). Whatever I wanted to do in my eternal afterlife, the Abyss could not provide me with it. So I decided to leave, plain and simple.

But where would I go? The Elemental Plane of Fire? Too hot. The Para-Elemental Plane of Ice? Too cold. The Quasi-Elemental Plane of Salt? Nah, too salty. The Material Plane? Too-wait...

The Material Plane is where almost all mortals reside. If I went there, I might be able to get the chance to help somebody out! The Abyss, you see, is so unfathomably horrid that everything good and righteous gets snuffed out like a lit match in a dark ocean. If I went to one of the Upper Planes, such as Heaven, which is the exact opposite of here, the angels would probably have my head on a pike by the time I introduced myself. But the Material Plane? A perfect mix of good, evil, and everything in between! There are plenty of people in need in that place, and I'm just the right guy to help them out.

The problem, however, was getting there. I don't know any magic, much less have the ability to travel across the universe. But at that instant, I remembered hearing whispered rumors, of a visiting devil who was willing to perform astronomical miracles, including planeshifting! ...For a small fee.

So I packed my bags. I took care to bring all my valuables. My half-full box of Liver Bitz®, a bag of cephalopod eyeballs for a snack, and of course, my lovely Sophie. As I was heading out the door, I decided that if I wanted to be known as a nice, human-friendly guy, eating their vital organs for breakfast might not make the best first impression.

Sighing with regret, I opened the box of my favorite cereal and poured it on the molten ground. But to be fair, they aren't actually lungs. But they do have that Real Lung Flavor!®

Satisfied with my sacrifice, I plodded off into the wild, beginning my journey to leave my home forever. I just hope that devil, if he exists, really likes squid cornea.

-:-

Under the third Red Star of Cornelius, betwixt the Great Trees of Life, following the West Winds from the Fountain of Eternal Youth. That is where you will find Abraxas the Wishmaker.

That location happened to be in a hut a stone's throw away from my house.

I knocked politely on the door, waiting for an answer. Around ten slow seconds passed before the door opened slightly, just wide enough to allow a small, reptilian eye to peek from the inside.

"Hi," I said.

The door was thrown open. "Welcome, welcome!" A goateed man with curled, goatlike horns stood at the door, holding his arms out in a welcoming manner. His eyes were indeed snakelike, and I couldn't help but notice a forked tongue sliding over a set of fangs.

"Well, come in!" he waved me inside. I had to lean down a little to make it in the door, but I managed. He motioned for me to sit at a little table, and he began pouring a black, viscous liquid for the both of us, using human skulls as cups.

"What is that, if you don't mind me asking?" I said to my host.

"It's a traditional drink we have back in the Nine Hells," he explained cheerfully as the liquid drizzled down, maddeningly slow, in a manner comparable to molasses. "The phlegm of a black dragon. It's used to seal pacts."

"Oh." He must have already known why I was here, I suppose.

"Why, silly me! I forgot to introduce myself!" he shouted suddenly as he was still pouring the phlegmatic mixture in my glass-I mean, skull-I mean, cup. "My name is Abraxas. Some call me the Wishmaker. Although I assume you already know this."

I nodded. "My name's-"

His hand lashed out, covering my bloody, skeletal maw. "Oh, don't be a bonehead!" he laughed. "I don't need to know your name for the pact to work! Now let's get down to business." He began pouring the vile drink in his own skull-cup. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" I asked.

"I don't know, you tell me," the snakelike devil snapped impatiently. "Or is that your wish? For a small fee, I can tell you what you want to wish for! I am a telepath, you know! You're limited to one wish, though!"

"No, wait!" I interrupted. "I know what I want! I want...to go to the Material Plane."

"Very well, then." he hissed. He fixed his concentration on the slow, pitch black stream once more.

"Don't you want to know why?" I asked him.

"No," he answered coldly.

I hung my head, listening to the slowly ticking clock. Unlike clocks manufactured in the Abyss, this clock's hands weren't construced out of mortal fingers. I suppose devils do have better taste...

"There we are!" chirped Abraxas as he finished pouring. He folded his fingers together. "Now...I assume you know that I don't perform my miracles for free-_That's not your cue to speak!_ Anyway, I can easily perform this task you request of me. For a small fee, of course."

"How small?" I asked.

"Not that small," replied the Wishmaker. "In fact, it would probably something big. Huge to you, in fact. Something you believe you couldn't live without."

"Err...how about...my voice?" What is idle prattle for, anyway?

"Your voice?" he mused. "Well, what could I possibly do with your voice?"

"Well, you could, um...pretend like...I would be talking, but it's really you?"

Abraxas just stared, with a largely unamused look on his face. "That would be of no use to me whatsoever. You must think of a way for both of us to gain something from this, not just you! Selfish Chaotic..."

"How about, then...my soul?"

He stared at me, a peculiar look in his eyes. He then burst into a harsh laughter.

"OooaaAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHOHOH! Ah-ahem, hem. Ah-aHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Oh ho ho hooo! SOUL?! **SOUL?!** AHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! OOOOHOOOOOWEE! AHAH- ahem! AHUM-HUM-HMPH...AHAHAHA-hem. You mean to tell me...that you're willing to sell me your soul over this?"

"Yep."

"You do know what selling your soul means, right?"

"Of course."

"There's one problem, though."

"What's that?"

He sighed. "Demons don't have souls."

"Oh," I felt dejected. What else was there to give? "Come on! There's got to be something I have that I can give you! Just name it!"

He stroked his goatee, pondering. He then snapped his fingers with a small "Ah-hah!"

"How about this...you agree to bind yourself to me. By this, I mean that if you happen to die in the Material Plane...your soul goes right back to me. And, of course, you will live an afterlife of eternal slavery." He chuckled.

"Sure."

He blinked a few times, as if trying to process what he was hearing. "You're..._really_ agreeing to that?"

"Yep."

Abraxas let out a heavy exhalation, with a slight laugh mixed in. I could have sworn I heard something that sounded like "Idiot."

But the conniving devil quickly perked up. "Alright!" he announced. "Do you, whatever your name is, agree to forge a pact with me, Abraxas the Wishmaker, that will send your very essence to the Prime Material Plane, with death punished by eternal service under me?"

"I agree!" I shouted without hesitation. I was getting very excited to leave this place. So excited, in fact, that I was barely paying attention to what Abraxas was saying.

He cackled menacingly. "Then let us seal the pact!" he shrieked in a somewhat crazed voice. He lifted his skull/cup. "Let us drink!"

I looked down to my skullfull of dragon snot. It didn't look that tasty, to be honest. And just because I'm a demon doesn't mean I love everything grotesque, mind you. Quivering, I lifted it up to my lipless mouth.

The Wishmaker reared his head back, downing his drink. I did the same, deciding to get this over with. I shook in fear as the oily, black muck slid slowly toward my mouth. And it reached it.

I choked, gasping for air. I pounded my chest with my fist, attempting to purge the thick slime from my esophagus. But eventually...I stopped. I swallowed a few times, smacking my tongue.

And then I greedily drank the rest. Dang! The flavor comes off as sort of a shock at first, but the pungent aftertaste made it all worthwhile.

Abraxas cleared his throat. I looked up from my tongue-cleaning session with the skull. He gave me a light smile, then stared off into space.

"So, uh...what happens now?" I asked, slightly confused.

"The pact has been sealed," he answered simply.

"Really?" I marvelled. "No...flashy lights? No arcane symbols floating about the room? No creative yet nightmarish visuals?"

He chuckled darkly. "Sometimes, magic takes effect in a realm inconcievable by the naked eye."

"Well then," I muttered, picking out a cockroach from one of my nails. "Is anything happening right now?"

"It takes one minute for the spell to take effect."

I drummed my claws on the table, waiting. I began to sing the tune to _I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Bloody Skulls_, a traditional drinking song down in the Abyss. I traced the outline of my ribcage, sighing in impatience.

"Oh, wait!" I exclaimed suddenly. "Hold on, I might need something to read in the Material Plane. I'll be right ba-"

Out of nowhere, everything went black. I felt an extreme suction on my face, as if I were on a rollercoaster that was going backwards up a steep slope. At six thousand miles per hour. I tried to scream, but a horrible buzzing in my ear blocked out all noise. After a minute of struggling, or it may have been an hour, or a week, for all I know, I surrendered to this oblivion which had consumed me.

-:-

I awoke in a forest. Not a burning forest of trees that scream in agony, or a forest where the trees had tentacles, or a forest of zombie trees with killer muskrats. No, for the first time in my life, I awoke in a normal forest.

My eyes darted around. No shrieks of terror? No maniacal laughter? No angry gods of destruction roaring off in the distance? For once in my life, everything seemed so...quiet. So tranquil. And this forest...so beautiful! I sniffed with my sunken nose the beautiful flowers, which didn't try to spit acid in your eye. I felt the cool waters of a nearby river. I was surprised when no flying pirahnas leaped out of the water to chew my face off. Why, if I hadn't known, I'd have assumed I shifted to Heaven itself!

I gasped as I saw a butterfly flittering near me on delicate wings. Trembling, I held out a greasy claw to allow the beautiful creature to land on me. And it did! I smiled and let loose a burst of joyous laughter, which I think scared away a nearby family of bunnies. But no matter. With my free claw, I stroked the insect on its delicate wing.

My eyes widened in shock when the appendage crumbled into flaky particles. "On, no, no, no..." I stammered. The poor one-winged creature fell from my hand, falling to the ground in a twirling motion. "NOOOOOOO!" I shouted. "I'M SORRY! I-I DIDN'T MEAN...BAD KHAA! BAD KHAA! I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY TO BE IN YOUR PRESENCE!" And with that, I sprinted away a failure, tears of blood streaming from my eyes.

"The one time you get to hold a butterfly that doesn't try to inject you with parasitic offspring...and you kill it! You..." I blinked a few times, getting a vague feeling that there was something...missing.

Right after that thought crossed my mind, I heard a large growl behind me. I spun around frantically, and saw a furry mass resting in between two trees. It was an unusually large wolf. It was about as big as a demonic rooster-whale, if the comparison helps. The beast rolled over, revealing its face in plain sight. It had a few bits of meat in its mouth, along with a strange wooden stick sticking from between two of its massive teeth...wait, that's Sophie! The creature was using Sophie as a toothpick!

"Um...hello?" I stammered. "You, um...you have something of mine."

The beast was busy at the moment in a deep slumber, no doubt having dreams about a horrible toothache. It whimpered slightly, swiping a paw at its gums.

It was then that I realized that I had to remove it. For the sake of the wolf, to end his suffering, for Sophie, to end _her _suffering, and me, so I could have a weapon to defend myself with. I pondered what would happen upon failure. I could have sworn I heard the sound of Abraxas chuckling in the back of my mind.

I slowly, cautiously approached the colossal canine. It let out a giant yawn, wincing at the pain in its gums caused by this. Determined, I trotted forward and wrapped my claws around my beloved Sophie. I began to pull on her gently.

The creature before me let out a growl. Blood poured down my face as I continued to gently tug on her.

Finally, after a minute or so of this, I let out one final yank. Sophie popped out from between the large carnivore's teeth, falling out of my hands and clanking to the ground. Before I could move a tailbone, its eyes shot open, and it let out a bloodcurling howl. Or at least I think it would be bloodcurling to mortals. Trust me, if you had rooster-whales shrieking you awake every morning, you wouldn't mind that too much, either.

It locked its eyes on me, growling and standing between me and my only true companion in the multiverse.

"Hi," I said.

Apparently, this meant "Your mother eats rhinoceros crap" in the wolf tongue, because the moment I said that, the creature swiped at me with one mighty paw.

"Aaaagh!" I screamed in pain and lurched backwards. Fearing for my afterlife, I dashed off, with the angered beast in hot pursuit. I panted as I ran, pushing bushes and plants out of my way, chased by an angry primeval canine. But sooner or later, I realized this wasn't going to work out. I was trapped in an endless forest, with no refuge or sanctuary, so what was the point of running? I already began to tire out, and my pursuer showed no signs of slowing. So I decided to use my last resort.

Reason.

Preparing a lecture in the back of my mind, I spun on my heel when we reached a grassy clearing. "STOP!" I shouted at the top of my lack of lungs, baring my teeth, which dripped with oil, and baring my claws in a threatening manner. I wasn't planning to attack it, of course. I only wanted to intimidate the poor thing.

Surprisingly, it obeyed. It stopped in its tracks, closing its mouth and cowering before me, staring upwards as if I were an abusive mortal master. The giant wolf began to back away slowly. I growled at it.

"What do you have to say for yourself?!" I snapped loudly. It winced when I said this, then suddenly turned around and scampered off, tail between its legs. I heard a whining noise in the distance.

I chuckled in satisfaction, but was still a bit confused that it ran off without answering my question. But I'm not complaining, of course. I guess I must be very persuasive if I convinced it not to assault me with just a few words.


	2. Chapter 2

I walked along the side of a river, pondering about how I was going to make a name for myself in this world. My reason for coming here was, after all, to do good. I had just picked a tall, slender flower that I found when I heard an ear-piercing _SNAP!_

I looked sharply behind me, and saw a brown, slender creature flying towards me. I didn't care what it was, because all I knew at that moment was that I was a goner if I didn't move, and fast. I leaped into the river just in time to hear a dull "thunk" behind me. Raising my head from the river, I studied the strange creature which had impaled itself in the ground behind me.

I studied it closely. It was a long, thin, brown creature. Extremely thin. And it was not brown from fur, and I could tell it was not a mammal. It also showed no signs of life or movement. Perhaps the fall had killed it? For some reason, it kept an incredibly straight posture with its head still buried in the ground. I assume it may have been some sort of strange type of insect. Its abdomen was spiny and splintered - torn off, maybe? The insect's head was larger than the rest of its body, strangely flat with a silvery glint to it.

"Sophie!" I cried. I pulled my companion out of the ground. At long last, we were reunited! But I gasped. She wasn't as long as she used to be. Something...had torn her in half.

I fell to my knees, attempting to comfort my poor friend, who was obviously in great pain. "But you can still slaughter anyone who attacks me, right?" I asked between the tears. "Right?"

Precisely on cue, her poor head bent backwards, dangling from her body. I stared at it in shock for a few seconds, until it fell off. Sophie was now unusable.

I collapsed, hugging the corpse of who was once my best buddy. I shook with sobs, all the good times we had flooding my mind.

But before you could say "Potential flashback", I heard a high-pitched scream in the distance. I decidedly left Sophie to her eternal rest, sticking to my word to do help those in need whenever the opportunity arose.

I leapt to my feet, racing toward the cry for help on all fours. In under half a minute, I reached the end of the forest. A small, simple house stood nearby. But between me and the house, there was a small human child, who plodded away in fear from her mysterious attacker. Surveying the land, I saw a roaring bear that was reared on its hind legs.

Without a moment's hesitation, I sprinted to the beast and tackled it, digging my claws into its large, furry back. A cry of pain arose from its throat. Before I could cause any further damage, it shook itself, flinging me to the side.

Now we were face-to-face. I stared into its beady, bestial eyes, which were not unlike mine. We circled eachother, waiting for the other to make the first move. Without Sophie's comfortable weight in my hand, however, I was at a disadvantage. I quickly shuffled to the side, whipping the ursine fiend in the face with my tail. (Did you forget I had a tail?)

It growled at me, lunging for me out of nowhere and taking a large chomp at my ear. I hissed and scraped at it in retaliation. We violently wrestled on the ground, rolling and taking turns having the upper hand (or paw, as the case may be). It would swipe at my arm, and I would spit acid in its face. It would tackle me, and I would whip it.

The beast let out a mighty roar, attempting to retreat. My vision began to be clouded with a reddish tint, and I was suddenly overcome by a vicious bloodlust. This bear would not get away. No, this bear would die by my hand.

I jumped on its back, trying to blind it by attacking its eyes. It stomped about, trying to shake me off, but I would not let go. In a sudden gesture of resignation, the mammal collapsed to the ground, seeming ready for death. This snapped me out of my frenzy.

I became disgusted with myself. I knew that this bear was evil, because anything that was willing to kill was evil...right? But wouldn't that make me evil, too? I backed off, a small voice in the back of my mind telling me that this was not the solution. I heard a small squeak behind me. Turning around, I saw the little girl whom I had saved. She pointed a grubby finger, which was aimed either at me or the bear. I couldn't tell.

A larger human stood beside her, but I couldn't notice the details because my vision was blurred from the battle. I assumed this to be her father. I was tired, but I managed to wave to both of them. Maybe they both came out to congratulate me!

Out of nowhere, I felt a searing pain in my right shoulder. I screamed, not knowing what was going on. Then I realized as I opened my eyes - the larger human was firing arrows at me! I managed to begin running just in time to dodge another projectile. I retreated into the forest, my thoughts a hurricane of chaotic confusion.

-:-

I yanked the small arrow out of my arm. It did hurt, but no blood flowed. I am not a being of flesh; I am evil incarnate, after all. Maybe that's why the man attacked me. Because demons are just pure evil, no exceptions. A _demon_,trying to do good for the world? Rarities like that only happen once an aeon, if at all. If you see any demons trying to go around helping people, it's safe to assume they're just manipulating those around them, and kill the beast on the spot.

I kicked a rock as I walked along a path to Pazuzu-knows-where. Even I still have my inner demons to conquer...so to speak. I remember being overcome by a desire to kill that bear, and I very narrowly shoved it off. Never before had I felt something like that...except in the years before I was enlightened. Before I discovered myself, before I shoved off the demonic coil.

My monologue was rudely interrupted by loud conversation and laughter in the distance. I speedily vanished from the main road, watching from behind a few bushes. I wouldn't want to frighten anyone, but I did want to watch and see who these travelers were.

"An' then I told 'im, 'ow aboot a taste ah my fist?" This comment was followed by hearty laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. I watched a procession of mortals, mostly humans and dwarves, rolling past in a horse-driven cart. They appeared to be having a very good time. Back in the Abyss, the only idea of a "good time" was to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women. This seemed like a tamer party. I was almost tempted to jump in and join the fun.

Just before the cart would have rolled out of sight, I heard the sounds of weapons being unsheathed, war cries, cries of terror, and cries of horses. I looked to the right and saw a group of armored brigands swarming the cart, shouting "Get out! Now! Get outta there if yer plannin' to live!"

The people jumped out of the cart with no hesitation, shooting their hands up and wailing in despair. Now was the time to act. No longer caring about a stealthy approach, I jumped from the bushes and sprinted toward the site of the robbery.

The cries of terror now multiplied as they saw a monstrous demon charging toward them, no doubt to drag their souls down to a fiery pit. However, I stopped before attacking anyone.

"Hey, leave these guys alone, you thieves!" I shouted in Common. "Stealing isn't nice!"

The bandits, whose faces were previously cringed in fear, now took on a look of great amusement. They started to laugh. Loudly. Some even dropped the goods they were stealing just to point and laugh at the red skeleton monster who turned out to be an all-around decent guy.

"OHOHOHOHOHO-Oi, laddie! Oi! YOU...yer tryin' to save these litt'l weaklings? What a load a' dung! What kind-a demon are ya?" The bandit who made that remark started laughing heartily again, even falling to the ground and clutching his stomach. The bandits' assault had all but stopped, as they were all too busy mocking me.

I walked mechanically over to the nearest bandit, the one who had made the loud observation earlier. Not sure what I was doing, I lashed out, wrapping a solitary claw around his neck and lifting him as high as I could.

It's remarkable, really, how quickly a group of people can go from having a wonderful time to being stricken with absolute panic. The bandits were quick to abandon their friend, calling off the robbery completely.

"He-HELP!" shouted the man whose fate was literally in my hands. He fumbled at his belt, unsheathing a dagger and swiping at my face. I felt nothing, only rage. When he attempted to go for another stab, I gripped the dagger in my teeth and tossed it to one side. He was now completely helpless.

I felt a twinge of humanity strike my heart of coal. (Or was it humanity? I wasn't necessarily trying to be human. Would that make it...good-ity?) I quickly dropped the man, who began gasping for breath as he collapsed on the ground, still shaking with horror.

"Go," I told him.

He obeyed without a moment's hesitation. The brigand was on his feet and speeding off within seconds.

The group who was partying just a few moments prior stared at me. Their expressions morphed from horror to gratitude, from confusion to realization. They were not sure how to react to this odd event.

I walked over to a tattered cloth robe which must have been dropped in the raid. I picked it up, noting that it perfectly fit my form, as well as hiding my features. "Do you mind if I keep this?" I asked a nearby dwarf, who went pale.

"O...of course," he stammered.

I wrapped the cloak around me, fitting the hood well over my head. Yes, this would be perfect. I would be able to do as much good as I pleased, and nobody would have to run off in fear.

I am no longer a demon. I am now...the Hooded One.

"Well...bye," I announced. I walked away from the stunned group of travelers, into the sunset. The wind blew my robe around, which must have looked pretty sweet. Once again, I had no idea where I was going, but I didn't care. There was evil to be vanquished!

-:-

In half an hour or so, I arrived at a city. Like many things on this plane, it was very different from the cities in the Abyss, which were basically huddled villages of sticks, stones, and glue, built by a group of demons which had held off their bloodthirsty hatred for one another just long enough to settle some sort of dispute, after which the city would be levelled to the ground and almost all the inhabitants would kill eachother until only one remained.

It's a miracle that I managed to survive in that place.

Anywho, I took care to hold my cloak close around me as I walked about. A few passersby stared at my mysterious attire, but it was a great deal better than if they had saw me for who I really was.

Wow...everyone seemed so calm as they walked on their daily way. Which, once again, contrasted the Abyss significantly. I walked into an odd building that people kept going in and out of.

The room I entered was littered with tables. People sat at the tables, feasting on strange, exotic foods, like this strange, soft white meat, and drinking what must have been a colorless variant of blood out of bottles. There was lots of song and cheer.

I approached a counter where a smiling half-elf stood. He eyed me suspiciously, saying "Have a look around."

"I already did," I replied, trying not to make my deep, scratchy voice sound too obviously demonic. And I wasn't lying. I assumed he told me to look around at the building, which I had already done.

"Then what would you like?" he asked.

I grabbed the strange white meat. It felt soft and fluffy, almost like a puppy. It smelled of butter.

"That'll be two copper pieces, please," said the half-elf across from me. Before I could reply, I saw someone address him by his name, which I discovered was Bart Ender, asking him for another "pint".

I cocked my head at what Bart had said to me. Copper pieces? I knew what copper was, sure, but what did that have to do with meat? I'm not sure how the mortal economy works, because back home, we pretty much had battles to the death, the winner claiming all the loser's possessions for himself.

A man passed quite close by me at that moment. I could have sworn I felt something drop in my pocket.

I reached down into it and, sure enough, I felt a few pieces of metal. I handed them to Bart, and he nodded in thanks.

"Enjoy," said he. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"You have no idea," I replied, taking a bite.

I hustled out of the building shortly thereafter. The meat tasted oddly bland, mostly buttery without much else to it. I could have sworn I saw the same man who had passed me earlier wink at me as I departed.

-:-

As I walked down the lonely street as nighttime drew near, I couldn't help but wonder...what would I go as? Yeah, I said that I would be the Hooded One earlier, but that was a spur-of-the-moment decision that I made due to dramatic pressure. Maybe the Cloaked One would be better? No, both of those are too straightforward. Maybe...the Justice Bringer? The Demon of Virtue? Nah, that'd give me away in an instant. Maybe...The Hooded, Cloaked, Demonic Bringer of Virtuous Justice?

My thought process was interrupted by a sudden stinging. I couldn't exactly place where I was being stung, sort of like an earache where you can't tell if it's the inside or outside of your ear that's hurting. I looked to my right. And that's when I knew.

My very essence was being stung at the sight of the building before me. It was a chapel, covered with mosaic windows and statues of religious figures lining the roof. And the sheer holiness of it was causing me pain.

I backed away, but it was no use. The gods in their shining kingdoms had no doubt spotted me, and were angry that disgusting scum such as I dared to venture upon their doorstep. I quivered in fear, waiting for a bolt of divine retribution to strike me down to my eternal punishment. Abraxas's serpentine face flashed in my mind's eye.

And nothing happened.

I peeked out of one eye, and saw that the chapel's doors had been thrown open. Out stepped a man dressed in a white robe. I recognized him as the man who had passed me in the tavern and had no doubt given me the money I needed to pay for the meat. (I'm beginning to read psychic waves of annoyance emanating from your head. Are you saying that the food I picked up...wasn't meat?)

"Are you looking for a place to sleep, friend?" asked the man, smiling. I nodded my head. Demons do not need sleep, of course, but I was posing as mortal. And I needed some shelter.

"Come on in," he told me. "There is plenty of room." I began walking slowly in the chapel's direction, if only to humor him. Through the open chapel doors, I saw paintings of angels on the walls. I could have sworn they were glaring at me.

"It's about to rain, friend," he called. "You might want to hurry."

As soon as I set a foot on the first step up to the chapel, I felt a burning sensation on my foot. A warning from the gods, perhaps. I took another step. I could practically feel them readying their thunderbolts. But I pressed on.

"Are you injured? You appear to be in pain...Do you smell something cooking?" the kindly man began to sniff the air. Indeed, as I neared the chapel's holy doors, my feet began to literally boil and bristle. There was a slight sizzling noise. My hidden face contorted in pain.

"Sorry, I...forgot...something!" I shouted between gasps for breath. And then I dashed off, away from the blinding light of Heaven, back into the comfortable darkness. It was then that it began to rain. The cold waters soothed my skin as I ran down the road, but the damage was done. It was a battle between two forces, holy and unholy, all but invisible to the mortal elements. And holiness had overwhelmed me.

I began to search for a dry place to sleep, for the sake of my cloak. After a few minutes of quiet investigation, I found a house that appeared to be abandoned, with the door slightly ajar. I entered the place and called out "Hello?"

No response. I walked further into the place. "Is anyone there?" Once again, there was no response. So I decided it was safe to sleep there.

I crept quietly down to the basement, wrapping myself in my cloak and nestling on the cold, wooden floor. I've rested in more uncomfortable positions, believe me. Even though almost no demons do it, as it only puts them in a more vulnerable state, it is possible for a demon to sleep, though we still don't require it. I began to doze off after a long day of doing good deeds and being shunned for them.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And here's the final chapter of my fanfiction. I originally wrote this as one large short story, but had to split it into three chapters for publishing. You may notice a bit of a shift in writing style here, but that is completely intended. Hope you enjoy, and peace out!**

"Aiieee!"

I sprang up at this frightening sound. I was in the same basement, but standing at the doorway was a group of extremely odd-looking people. Some were entirely naked, but a few wore voluminous red-and-black robes. Some carried daggers, others carried animal bones. Some had wild eyes and unkempt hair, others had sophisticated, goateed faces, and others still covered their faces with masks designed to look like the heads of animals. But one thing was certain.

I was not welcome here.

The one who had previously screamed "Aiieee!" lunged at me. It was a long-haired, almost naked man, eyes filled with a bloodlust rivalling that of the demons themselves. He raised a club, prepared to strike me down. I quickly rolled to dodge, my cloak sliding off in the process.

By the light of many candles held by the odd people and a few on the walls, my full form was exposed. I cringed, prepared for the worse. I heard many gasps, but they didn't sound frightened, but almost...delighted...?

The man who had just tried to attack me froze, dropping his club. He dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, great one!" he shouted, tearing at his hair. "I didn't recognize you!"

"What's going on here?" I managed to mutter.

A man approached me - at least I thought it was a man. He wore a blood-red robe with a heavy iron necklace around his neck that depicted a ram's visage. Covering his face was a mask made out of what must have been the skull of a goat. "Truly, you should know why you are here," he said in an old, scratchy voice. "For our great lord Pazuzu had answered our call - and sent us one of his servants to guide us."

My eyes widened as he said this. Great lord Pazuzu? Pazuzu was a demon lord of the sky, who resided on the same layer of the Abyss as I did before my departure. He had many mortal followers in the world, as did a lot of powerful demons. These people gather in hideouts seeded throughout civilization, secretly revering their demonic masters. The Abyssal lords they adhered to didn't care much for their mortal cultists, but boy, did they love being worshipped. They revelled in it, and under rare circumstances, actually granted unholy powers and servants to their most devoted followers.

"Um...oh yeah! Of course!" I replied, playing along and pretending like I understood. The group suddenly surrounded me and dropped to their knees, wide-eyed.

"Praise our leader! May all his foes be engulfed in his unholy flames!" they chanted. "Praise our leader! May all his foes be engu-"

"My name's Khaa, by the way," I interrupted.

"Praise Khaa! May all his foes be engulfed in his unholy flames!"

Whooping and hollering, the cult scattered about the room. Candles were lined up on the walls, banners bearing demonic symbols were hanged, and an alter was set up near the room's center. At the end of the basement opposite the trap door, a few cultists laid down a throne messily constructed of wood, bones, a strip of velvet here, a hunk of silver there. In any event, they kneeled down, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I approached the odd-looking thing and did as they said. It was pretty comfortable, actually. I made myself comfortable, and one of the cultists quickly ran up to me and bent over, allowing me to use him as a footrest. I laid my foot on his back, deciding that it wasn't so bad if he wanted me to do it.

The man who had spoken to me before, with the goat-skull mask, approached my throne. He presented a crown of teeth and bones from his cassock. He slowly lowered it onto my head, then kneeled before me.

The entire cult broke into a furious chanting and cheering. I had been crowned their king. Wow...never before, not even in the Abyss, had I felt so...accepted. Loved. Idolized, even.

I raised one claw. This was enough to silence everyone within seconds. I was drunk with joy. I felt so...so powerful. So sacred. I felt like a god.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" I asked loudly.

The goat-masked man, who had by now made it clear that he was the leading figure, (until now, of course) said "Well, milord, we have a new initiate who is ready to complete the sacred ritual that will allow him to become one of us!"

"And what would that be?" I asked regally.

He only grinned and made a motion with one hand. A young woman who sat in the back stood up and approached him. She only wore regular clothes, as, I presumed, she was not yet an official member. He nodded slightly to her and removed a dagger from his robe. It was a bone-white dagger (What is it with these guys' obsession with bones?) that he held on each end with his fingers. She gripped the handle, testing the end of the blade with a sick smile.

The woman then approached me, kneeling before me. The cult looked like they were...waiting for something. Not sure what to do, I poked her on the head. This seemed to suffice. Perhaps she had wanted my blessing? Wait, if I'm a demon, and a blessing is largely a holy gift, would that mean that she wanted my "curse"?

But no matter. She stood beside the altar that had been set up. A few masked men brought up a squirming bag of...something. They deposited out a white mass onto the altar, tying down flailing arms and legs. It was a young man, who could not have been anything over eighteen. He yelped in fright, muffled by the tight gag over his mouth.

Suddenly, the illusion was broken. I realized that if I let this man die at the hands of this cult, it would be largely my fault. These people, friendly and appreciative as they are of me, were still evil and corrupt.

But was being good really the way to go? I thought back to the bear, and the girl I had saved. I did an incredibly good deed, and what did I get? An arrow to the shoulder. Were I born a mortal, or an angel, or an elemental, heck, anything _but_ what I was, I would have gotten a shower of gratitude. I was hated for something that wasn't my fault. Not for who I was, but for _what _the gods happened to choose me to be.

And then I thought about what happened when I hung out with the evil crowd. They revered me, kissed the very ground I walked on, treated me like a prince. No, a king. No, a _god_! They seemed a good deal friendlier than the so-called "good" folk. If I stuck with them, I could finally live a happy life for all eternity. After all, what is the point of pursuing good if you will only be persecuted for it? It wasn't as if it were _my_ fault I was born a demon. Maybe...maybe this whole idea of "good" was an illusion. A phantom, lying to me, driving me away from the truth. The truth being that angels were good, demons were evil, and mortals could choose whichever way they wanted.

Maybe this was meant to be. I studied the struggling man, pitiful against his bonds. A perfect example of the helpless innocent. The lamb to be sacrificed to gain the favor of the gods of darkness, and as a result, power. Maybe I was meant to be evil, just like all the others, nothing any more special. But being evil meant advancing yourself above the weak. To be evil means to advance yourself above the weak, to kill your enemies without mercy. To be evil gives one every advantage in life. But, to be good...?

The young woman who was ready for initiation raised the dagger high above her head. She looked to me, waiting for my signal before plunging it downward. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath in anticipation.

I lowered my head, descending into an even deeper state of thought. The woman must have mistaken this for a nod. She began to swing her dagger downwards with terrifying speed and coldness.

"STOP!" I screamed as loud as was possible. Everyone in the room gasped. The woman stopped herself, dropping the dagger in shock. The would-be sacrifice stared shakily at me.

I then left control of my body not to my mind, nor my logic, nor my lust for power, but to what I knew in my heart was right. I stood up from my throne and approached the man. All the cultists appeared confused, especially the initiate, who just stood, fixing her eyes on the sacrifice. Most likely they thought I knew what I was doing.

I leaned down, beginning to untie the man's bonds. Everyone gasped, letting out cries of protest and muttering amongst themselves. When the man was free, he flailed around like a fish out of water.

"HELP!" the man cried violently. "HE-"

The initiate clamped a hand over his mouth. She then stared at me, confused, appalled. I ignored her and surveyed the crowd before me. They were now silently glaring at me, waiting for an explanation for this odd turn of events.

"Murder..." I began. "Does not please me. You will not win my favor by killing in my name, but quite the opposite. You have idolized me tonight, treated me like a king, even crowned me. But, as subjects, I do not respect you, nor do I want to rule over your kind. So, if I am the ruler you make me out to be, I command you all to go home, disband this horrible group, and try to pursue a cause that is less...evil."

They remained silent. Some stared at me in pure disbelief. Some shook with rage. I had no idea what the cult planned to do next.

But I know that I did the right thing.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!"

Everyone looked around frantically as they heard the door being kicked down. Then they screamed like a pack of animals, running for their weapons. The guards must have heard the commotion going on down here and dispatched a team to investigate.

The trap door opened, and an armored man looked through. "What's going on he-WAAAUGGHH!"

The guard had just been attacked by a raging cultist, dragged down into the room. This was enough to prompt the rest of the guards to draw their weapons and begin storming the room. A horrible battle has just begun. Because of me.

"Betrayer!" shouted the cult leader, pointing a solitary finger at me. "Abomination!"

One of the guards shouted at the top of his lungs to his fellows: "They're a group of devil worshippers! And it looks like they've summoned a demon to help them!"

And that was my cue to escape. I climbed, spiderlike, up the wall. Using my strong, padded skull, I bashed against the ceiling. And again. The old, brittle wood had already begun to crack.

It was a slow, tedious, and painful process, but I managed to break through and fit my slender body through the hole. I ran from the bloody battle whose two sides were now both just as hostile to me. I had no idea where I was going as I crashed out of the house's window and began to run through the streets, completely naked and exposed for all to see.

Several citizens had lit lamps by this time and were fearfully gazing out their windows at the bloody skirmish. Some had seen me, and were not afraid to let loose cries of "Demon! Monster!" into the stormy night.

Lightning struck above me as I ran through the streets, turning corners, jumping fences, ducking in alleyways. Rain pelted my face as I sprinted blindly through the formless maze that my entire life had now become. I was running away from everything: the bear. The girl's father. The cultists. The brigands. The travelers. The guards. The chapel. Everything that I had ever known was hostile, and they were all chasing me down, and they wouldn't rest until I was plunged back into the bottomless pit where I belonged.

After this meaningless running, I arrived at a cemetery on the outskirts of the city. There was another flash of lightning, and the angry roar of the gods echoed through the sky.

By now, I was beginning to tire. Yet I kept running, and running, until I arrived at a tomb that was larger than all the rest, with a statue of a heavenly servant at the head. This carving of an angel, with wings spread outward and holding a sword with the blade buried in the ground, seemed to stare at me with all the fury of the gods. I slipped on the wet stone, falling before the angel.

I had come to realize that to be a truly good being was a rare and special thing. The temptation to do evil was quite alluring, and no one could blame me if I had chosen that path. After all, it was only nature's law. Heaven was pure and incorruptible. The Abyss was a disgusting, hideous realm that was beyond redemption. But for a demon, who has been born from the very concept of evil, to choose the path of righteousness...it could be seen as a miracle by some, but an abomination by others. Most did not see it. Most did not see past the red, slimy skin, and the barbed tail, and the sharp teeth, and the black, lifeless eyes. And who could blame them? After all, I was one of the only demons to go against the laws of demonkind, the very natural order.

And now I was going to do the universe a favor. I will give everyone the only good I have left to offer.

I will rid this world of myself.

I reared my head toward the sky. "Gods!" I shouted toward the heavens. "If you despise me so much for going against your law, then take me now! Wipe me off the face of this world, and toss me back into the dark Abyss! I have suffered long enough!"

And with that, I collapsed completely to the ground, sobbing in unison with the harsh rain. I did nothing, but waited for death to overcome me. Once again, the devil whom I had made a deal with flashed back into my mind, and I heard a dark chuckle. But this chuckle was not in my mind.

I felt a cold hand rest on my shoulder. I was too deprived of energy to look up, or even wonder who it was. I only waited for whatever plans the gods had for me to take effect.

"You know, you didn't have to take such a thespian approach," hissed a slimy voice behind me.

My eyes opened. It was the voice of Abraxas the Wishmaker, in the flesh. I slowly turned my head, and indeed saw the creature standing directly behind me.

"I mean, the gods do know what everyone is thinking, do they not?" he observed. "It would have made no difference if you had just _thought _out that entire speech. Shouting it will only make it easier for them to find you."

"If that is what the gods will, then so be it," I said softly.

The cunning devil cocked his head. "Really, now? Well, I don't know if it's just me, or you seem really eager to die. So you've lived your entire life in the Abyss, and after barely a day in the Material Plane, you're already begging for death. Now that sure says something about the gods, doesn't it?"

Again, he chuckled darkly. "But what do I care? After all, the closer you are to death, the closer I am to getting a new servant!" He laughed diabolically, and I said nothing.

Abraxas fell silent. "Well, never before have I met a soul that was so easy to catch," observed the Wishmaker. "I suppose there's not much left to do but wait for those mortals to find you. And you can bet that they will be angry..."

I ignored his comments. I remained crouched on the ground before the angelic figure, hands clasped. It didn't matter any longer that I was to be his slave for eternity...it would serve as my punishment for being born a demon, and having the audacity to go against the Creator's law.

A sudden gasp pierced the air. I looked back, seeing Abraxas cowering in fear. With a twinge of anticipation, I turned to the direction where he was looking in horror.

Before me, the angel statue was gone. In its place, I saw the Angel of Death himself. He had a tall, robed figure, shrouded completely in darkness. Two majestic wings spread from his shoulders, his robe, black as midnight, billowed around him, and he carried a long staff in one hand.

Abraxas began to stammer. "Wha-is it-could that be...the Reaper _himself_?" His previous look of smug satisfaction had morphed completely to an appalled expression of awe.

"Yes," replied the supernatural being in a sighing, wind-like voice, which was soft and quiet yet at the same time loud and booming. We've all heard tales of the Angel of Death. They say he was neither good nor evil, and upholded neither order nor freedom...but that he knew which destination to send the deceased for their afterlife. "And I have come to retrieve the soul of this babau, for his time has arrived."

"Ah, yes," Abraxas smirked. "And he's off to a life of eternal slavery, I presume?"

The Angel simply replied "No."

The devil's eye twitched. "But-!" he protested. "But we've made a deal! It specifically indicated that if _he_ died, his eternal life would belong to me! This is no concern of you!"

The mysterious spirit's wings spread, and he slowly raised a finger to point at Abraxas, who shrank back in terror. "Fate decides where all beings go after death," boomed the Angel above roaring thunder and pelting rain. "Not pacts and agreements. When the moment arrives, We choose where he will spend his afterlife."

"And where would that be?" hissed Abraxas.

"Whichever place is chosen for him," he replied, with infinite calm and majesty. The Angel of Death looked down to me. "Arise, spirit."

Shakily, I stood up, my own height nothing in comparison to that of the shrouded figure before me. I looked up into his hooded face, which did not look down at me in disgust. Rather, there was an air of...admiration? No, impossible.

"You have done well, O Ascended One," he said to me as the cool rain ran down my body. Lightning struck again in the distance. "But the time has come for you to depart."

I nodded in understanding. I knew not where this agent of the forces of the universe itself was planning to take me, but at least I could rest assured that I was departing to where I deserved to go, rather than being condemned to eternal slavery.

Abraxas may have left by then. I was not sure. But I knew that I stood alone in the rain, aside from the shrouded figure before me. All was silent except for the quiet pitter-patter of the slowly softening rainstorm.

He raised a solitary finger. It was a light, almost meaningless gesture for mortals, but when this spirit did it, it carried much weight. And as he slowly moved it towards me, I forgot about everything. The angry townsfolk that were likely hunting me down, the Abyss, the troubles of this world...it slowly seeped from the back of my mind. When the finger finally rested against the crest of my forehead, my head began to spin. But not in a dizzying, chaotic manner, but more of a relaxing spinning, like one would feel before going unconscious. I faced the ground, with nothing more to say.

And for the first time in quite a while, I felt like this was genuinely...good. I did not hate myself to such a degree that I thought the world would be better off without me. That is not the reason I felt like I felt. I felt good because I was losing control of my morality, and even though I very much wanted to stay in that beautiful world, to smell the flowers, to stare at the sky with my head nestled against the grass, to observe and study the peaceful creatures of the wild...and yet in the bottom of my heart, I knew that the mortals did not want me here. And I discovered that that is what it means to be good. To do all you can to keep others safe and happy, even if it is at the expense of yourself. And that in itself, in my opinion, is more rewarding than if I were praised and crowned a king.

And for the first time in my chaotic, bizarre life...I felt truly...happy...

-:-

In the town of Windbrook, a mob had formed.

Many citizens were awakened by horrible cries in the middle of the night. "To arms!" heaved the calls of duty above an ongoing skirmish which was happening in the old, abandoned house that everyone steered clear of. "Monster attack!"

Grabbing family heirlooms, rakes, torches, whatever weapon they could scrounge, a formidable army of the hardworking populace searched for the recently sighted monster's trail, while the wives stayed home and hugged their children tight. The general populace, you see, had an almost zealous devotion to Mara, goddess of mercy. Whenever they caught wind of the godless fiends known as demons and their followers daring to enter their town's walls, they were quick to arms.

They were led by a man known as Cornelius Datorim. He was a well-respected cleric in those parts, and was the head of the town's chapel to Mara. Cornelius was well known for his living only by Mara's principles, giving money to the poor even if they do not ask, and inviting the homeless inside the sacred building for a place to stay. Cornelius was a rather quiet but friendly man, but when fiends and heathens were brought up, the fury of the gods shined in his very eyes.

"This way, everyone!" shouted Cornelius at the top of his lungs, clutching a mace, an artifact, wielded by Saint Julius long ago. "I saw the fiend enter the graveyard!"

With cries of violent eagerness to spill the blood of the wicked, Windbrook's residents stormed the cemetery, branching out in all directions to search for the cunning little devil. By now, the rainstorm that had recently formed was letting up, drips only occasionally falling here and there. But it wouldn't matter to Cornelius if there was a hurricane striking at the time; he would have gone out and searched for the fiend no matter the circumstances.

The cleric searched, and searched, and searched some more. But it appeared that the recently sighted monster had escaped. _Perhaps,_ he wondered. _Mara's fury had scared it off. Her mercy does not extend to demons, after all._ This idea reassured him, but not very much.

After about 10 minutes or so of searching, the citizens had begun to lose faith. It was pretty obvious that if the fiend was skulking around here, he was doing a danged good job of it. The militia began to look anxiously toward Cornelius, as if expecting him to give them the answers they deserved.

Taking their hint, the priest raised his arms to gain everyone's attention. "If the demon still resides in this town, it will likely be lurking somewhere besides this place. Surely our Lady of Mercy would strike the foul creature down if it dared to disturb the resting souls in this place? Let us return to our homes and comfort our families, comrades, for surely Mara's light will have scared the beast off by now."

The now passive civilians nodded and solemnly muttered in agreement. Giving a few humble goodbyes, the brigade of men slowly broke off as they journeyed back to their respective residences. Cornelius remained at the cemetery in quiet contemplation, when he turned around and noticed something strange.

The tomb of Saint Uriel was no doubt the highlight of the cemetery. It contained the body of a well-known paladin who had rallied and lead an army against legions of invading orcs, and died in combat. He was basically the paragon of all Windbrook, setting a fine example for men of all ages. A guardian angel stood vigilantly over him, as if to ward off any who might disturb his slumber.

What was odd was that a new statue had been added to accompany that of the angel - a crouching man, who had his hands clasped as if in prayer. But his face was at a high angle, as if looking off at the sun. But there was something strange about that man...thought Cornelius could not put his finger on it. It did not appear human, nor monstrous. It was neither divine nor fiendish. The creature represented by the statue appeared to be...something of its very own. Something unique, a rarity.

The angel, however, was mostly unchanged, except for one minor detail. The statue's sword, rather than pointed at the ground, was touching the creature before it. But not in a threatening way, but more of a glorifying manner. It rested on the unidentifiable thing's shoulder, as if the angel were knighting him.

Cornelius shrugged. The effects of aging had already began to befuddle his memory, and perhaps it had always been like that but he did not notice. Glancing one last time at the tomb, the priest walked solemnly back to the main square, with other things on his mind.

_And from that day forward, nobody had ever heard again from Khaa, the demon who dared to be different._


End file.
